


The Love We Crave

by Dannie_Marie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Absent Parents, BAMF Women, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hate to Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Maybe Lemons, Vampires, damon needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dannie_Marie/pseuds/Dannie_Marie
Summary: Damon leaves Mystic Falls, heart broken from Elena's rejection, and comes across Beacon Hills. He eventually crosses paths with someone just as heartbroken as him. With the death toll rising will they be able to be what the other needs or will their story end in tragedy?





	1. Prologue

She looked up at him from across the table. His crystalline eyes burned through her own blue pools as he held eye contact with her. His pink lips lifting up slightly, holding back a smile, but his eyes revealed his joy. And the cause of this joy was because of the young woman across the table. Her own eyes held joy as well, but with a hint of mystery that had the man wanting more. God, she’s beautiful. He couldn’t help but think as he took her features in. With skin that seemed to be made of gold and lips so pink, he couldn’t resist that smile with perfect straight teeth. And those eyes, eyes that were like that of a labyrinth, endless and complex and somewhere that you can get lost in, were framed by thick black eyelashes. 

“Come on Salvatore, just do it. You know you want to.” She taunted with a voice as smooth as honey.

In response, the man playfully growled and slowly shook his head, still holding eye contact with her, neither blinking. 

“Just give up Kitten, you know I can wait, I’ve got the rest of eternity.” The man finally spoke, causing shivers to go down the girl's back.

“So d-” 

There was a sudden wrapping on the front door, which cause the couple at the table to blink, ending their little game. Rolling her eyes, she directed her attention to the front of the house. 

“Ignore it.” The man spoke again. The woman looked back at the man, somewhat surprised, as if she forgot that he was there. 

“They know I’m here.” 

The knocking started again, but now with two voices accompanying it. The young beauty stood up and walked down the corridor with an annoyed look racing her face for being interrupted. She reached the door and swung it open, mouth opening up to release a list of obscenities, only to stop and take in the scene before her. 

“What the hell did you two idiots do!”


	2. Seeing Him

Octavia Capello found herself walking to work that night. She had no boyfriend, which meant no ride. And that was just another problem on the list of problems that the young beauty had. And because of the constant reminder of her having no ride, she couldn't help but think of the guy that always gave her a ride, her boyfriend. He was definitely a weird one, what with his spastic ways and sarcastic behavior. Her heart still ached with the revelation that happened not long ago. She could barely believe what had happened, what she saw. He was the last person she ever thought would hurt her, they had been best friends since she moved to Beacon Hills at the ripe age of six. But eventually they grew up and became teenagers. And with becoming a teenager you suddenly realize that the other gender isn't completely gross. And that's how Stiles Stilinski found himself, only a year before now, crushing hard on the Italian beauty that is Octavia Capello. 

But now all she wishes is to never have met him in the first place. Maybe she wouldn't feel like total shit now. Her heart ached in her chest as she recalled her own tragedy. Her boyfriend, her best friend, cheated on her. With Malia Tate. God I hate that bitch. She thought angrily. 

Looking up from the cracked cement, her eyes met the glowing sign of some ridiculous bar that let teens in. Not much of a bar now, that is if don’t count the sleazy day drinkers and the annoying frat boys from some college near by. Not bothering to go around the back of the drinking establishment, she went through the front entrance. Luckily for her aching feet the place seemed almost deserted. Not so good for her wallet though. No customers, no tips. Walking through the place to get to the bar, she stopped short. Literally stopping right where she stood, because not but mere feet in front of her was a man so beautiful that you had to actually stop whatever you were doing to take in all of his glorious features. Damn, someone sure got hit with the pretty stick. 

Crack

She was broken out of her ogling by the sound of glass shattering. The man before her had broken the scotch glass within his hand. Obviously from squeezing too hard. The man himself had also seemed to be in some sort of trance, judging by the foggy sadness in his eyes, before coming to with a look of shock gracing his face, not with pain because of the glass that forced its way into his hand, but maybe from the anger that also lingered in his orbs. And with movements that were too fast to follow, he removed the glass from his hands and wiped the blood away. Holy shit. No cut. What the hell is this guy. She looked around, as if expecting to see someone else who had also witnessed what she had. When she looked back at the young man, she found her eyes connecting with his own. Deciding that the best course of action was get the hell out of there cause she had no idea what he was. Of course it's not like she hasn't seen accelerated healing before, she being constantly surrounded by werewolves. But she had this feeling that this god like man was no werewolf. He moves different. Was all that she could come up with. She was about to make it past him when she felt a strong grip on her left wrist. 

“Now where do you think you’re going?” 

And that’s when he spoke. His voice caused her mind to fog up, but when her own shocking blue orbs met his, everything else got a little more dull, unable to match the exquisiteness of the intensity his eyes held. She was unable to look away, already lost and seemingly under his control. And unable to respond.

“Well looks like tonight's your lucky night, usually if someone saw what just happened, I would have snapped their little necks, but I’m having a change of heart and you’re just too pretty,” he winked. He held eyes contact with her, his pupils suddenly dilating and he spoke with a voice so hypnotic, she thought she might just give in. But something in her mind was holding her back from completely giving into the man before her. Some sort of inner force that she hadn’t known she had.

“Forget that you saw me, got it?” he looked at her expectantly, so she just nodded, not to sure what was happening. And with that, he released her and almost robotically, she moved her feet forward toward the kitchen to get to work.

She reached the kitchen door when she finally came to her senses and turned around, eyes immediately going to the booth where the man used to be. Used to, as in, not anymore. He was gone. Letting out a huff, she turned back around, her eyes, for the first time in weeks, were clear of any sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys, forgot to mention in the prologue that none of the Vampire Diaries or Teen Wolf characters belong to me. Only Octavia Capello. This story won’t revolve around either TV show, but on the characters themselves and more specifically Octavia and Damon.


	3. Seeing Her

Damon rolled his eyes. Like he had been doing since he arrived in this supernatural Beacon that was a town, not that Damon knew that. But Damon did know that anywhere was better than being there, with them. God he couldn’t even think about Mystic Falls and who was held within it without the uncomfortable twinge of pain that accompanied it. He was also thankful that unlike Mystic Falls, this place had at least some industrialization to it. 

Damon was currently in the process of waiting for the elevator at his apartment complex. Finally, the doors opened and he went to stand in the metal box. As waited for the the the automatic doors to close, he heard a feminine voice calling out.

“Hold the elevator! Hey could y-”

He stopped her rambling as he held his hand out to stop the door. He smiled charmingly at the women, he could eat, he thought. 

“Thanks,” the small women breathed out.

He just answered with a murmured, no problem as the automatic doors finally decided to do their job. Damon turned to look at the petite women to his left and felt his eyes start to change and his fangs elongating. He smirked at the small gasp that escaped her lips as she looked up at the demon before her. The women took clumsy steps back, but every step that she took, Damon matched with more slow, calculated ones. Once he reached her, his hands clasped firmly at her shoulders and before she could resist he looked into her eyes and spoke,

“Stay still and keep quiet, it’ll only hurt a bit.”

But as he lowered his head to her neck, he couldn’t help but think of what he was actually doing, which he rarely ever did. This was it, this was why Elena saw him as a monster, and she was right. He looked in front of him, past the whimpering women and into the mirrored wall that captured his image. He could see what Elena saw in him. He could see the monster that he was. 

Quickly, he released the women and compelled her to forget what had transpired before exiting the elevator. What the hell was that? He thought. I’m going soft. He scoffed, him? Soft? Oh please, that's like saying Stefan doesn’t have a blood problem. No he was fine, what happened with Elena just threw him off his game. 

TVD~TW

Stepping out of his car, Damon looked across the street to take in the bar and grill in front of him. Bar and grill, you gotta be kidding me, Damon groaned. Rolling his eyes, he sauntered in and took a seat at the bar and ordered a scotch. He downed it in one swallow and signalled for another. He sighed, if this wasn’t deja vu then he didn’t know what was. It was only days earlier, when he found himself in this exact position. Drinking in the middle of the day and wallowing about Elena’s rejection. He just couldn’t help himself. He just wished that one time he would get the girl, not Stefan. Katherine chose him and so did Elena. It hurt, he was willing to admit to himself and only himself, but there was nothing he could do. It’s not like he could compel her, not that he would anyway. You could never actually compel someone to love you because it’ll never be real then. It would be staged, fake. What was the point of it? They didn’t truly love you, they never would. So here he was, in some bar, in some town. He literally moved across the country to get away from Mystic Falls. And those it held. He sighed. It wasn’t just Elena that he ran away from, it was Katherine. She caused him a century and a half of heartache and slight insanity. And then she finally decides to show herself, but all she wanted to do was cause more problems in his life. They never did manage to kill her, but they had succeeded in locking her away; hopefully forever. It seemed harsh, but Damon wanted her to suffer like the way she made him suffer. 

His heart still ached from the emotional wound that Katherine inflicted upon him. Even with his new found love in Elena, the pain was still there, but it had dulled. But without Elena and Katherine, he just felt empty. Or maybe that was the alcohol. 

His ears perked up at the sound of someone entering the bar. He looked to his left for half a second, but was forced to look aback when he caught sight of the brunette beauty at the entrance. He swallowed and forced himself to look away. Brunette. Elena. God he had to stop. Even with the thought of her made his heart ache with longing.

Crack

Fuck. He looked down at his hand to see that he broke his scotch glass. Hand covered in blood and containing pieces of jagged glass. Quickly he removed the offending shards and wiped the blood away. But something quickly caught his attention. A quiet, feminine gasp. Damon clenched his jaw as he felt the woman pass him by, but all too quick, his hand shot out, firmly grasping the owner of said gasp. He looked up and saw the beauty from before. Now that he was much closer, he could appreciate her beauty. Golden skin and light pink, plump lips. Accompanying those features were what he thought were her best assets, her eyes, They were an icy sapphire color that held shock and caution, but what was most curious was the lack of fear and hint of knowing. He narrowed his eyes, but quickly placed a charming smirk on his face. 

“Now where do you think you’re going?”

She didn’t respond, but honestly, he hadn’t expected her to. He knew that it would be easy to kill her, but it’d also be easy to compel her. He had to do something though because it was obvious that she saw his little healing trick. Could he kill her? He didn’t know and wasn’t completely sure that he wanted to. This is really annoying, he thought, usually he didn't have to contemplate if he should- could kill someone or not. He usually just did. 

He looked at her again and released a small sigh,

“Well looks like tonight's your lucky night, usually if someone saw what just happened, I would have snapped their little necks, but I’m having a change of heart and you’re just too pretty.”  
Still nothing. Deciding he had enough of this one sided conversation, if you could even call it that, he looked into her blue orbs and for what seemed like forever, but was really only a second, he was totally and completely lost in them. He looked past her current emotions and saw sadness, but still contained strong bravery and courage. She’s a fighter, he could tell. Shaking himself slightly, breaking himself from a near hypnotic state, he kept eye contact with the young women with enchanting eyes and spoke with a voice so smooth, he almost didn’t need compulsion. 

“Forget that you saw me, got it?”

He released her and almost hesitantly she nodded and moved forward robotically. Time to go, he thought. And with that, he was gone. Long gone by the time the women had come out of her compelled state and turned around.


	4. Avoidance and Ignorance

Stiles Stilinski felt miserable. And guilty, oh yeah, he felt a whole lot of guilt. He broke his friends heart. He cheated on his girlfriend. Stiles couldn’t get forget the heartbroken look that the girl that held his heart, and still did, had. He also couldn’t forget the look that Scott always gave him. Scott wasn’t just angry, anymore at least, he was disappointed. Stiles could handle anger, but never disappointment. But he knew he deserved it. He deserved the looks from Scott and the cold shoulder from Lydia, even the threats from Derek, who had incidentally bonded with Stiles’ girlfriend. She was always was like that. She had this warmth about her that made people like her and mystery that drew you in. 

Stiles couldn’t believe he screwed up so bad. He loved her. Loved Octavia Capello, who definitely deserved better than him, but still wanted him anyway. Not anymore though. She never liked cheaters and it was obvious she wasn’t gonna start now. 

Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He had another problem too. Even though he loved Octavia, he felt himself developing feelings for a certain werecoyote. Who was in fact very different from Octavia. he hated himself for feeling this way, but he couldn’t help it. He liked the fact that Malia was different than Octavia, and in that moment, and maybe even now, he wanted different. Where Octavia was a mystery, Malia was upfront. Where Octavia teased and flirted, Malia was brash and forward. He liked all of these traits about both woman, but even though his heart still ached for Octavia, he found himself taking more interest in Malia.

Octavia probably hated him anyway, who wouldn’t? He betrayed her. But even though he did, he had to talk to her, he needed to. Swallowing, he looked up at the clock to see that she would be getting out of work in an hour, but by then it would be too late, so it seemed he had to wait for tomorrow. 

TVD~TW

Snap

And there goes her pencil. Octavia’s knuckles were turning white as she clenched her fists. She could literally feel his eyes on her. She got it, he felt bad, but this wasn’t going to change what happened. She couldn’t understand why he did what he did, but she wasn’t gonna wallow in her pain forever. She would get over him, she would. Octavia has never been one to just sit there and do nothing. She moved on. It’s what she did, it’s what she’s always done and that’s what she was doing now. Sure it was taking longer than expected, but Stiles wasn’t just her lover, but her friend. So she believed she had the right to allow herself some time to pick herself back up, gather her broken pieces and put herself back together with tape and glue. Sure the pieces were cracked and some too small to actually put back. But she knew, she knew in the end she would heal. She just needed time, isn’t that what all the romance novels said, time heals all wounds. But then again, she never was one for romance novels. Rolling her eyes, something she was sure that she had mastered along with Derek’s help, that man really had that move down pact, she thought to herself. 

Glancing up at the clock at the front of the classroom, the big hand ticked on slowly, just as you would expect it would. Lunch was next and her stomach was aching for something to digest. 

20 seconds

His eyes still burned the back of her neck.

15 seconds

She wasn’t gonna turn around.

10 seconds

You think he would take the hint.

5 seconds 

She could hear the squeak of his chair, preparing himself to launch out of his seat to bombard her with useless apologies. 

3 seconds

What? Did he think that she would forgive him. Not in this lifetime. Or the next, if you believed in that kind of thing. 

2 seconds

Her fingers tapped on the desk.

1 second

All her things were gathered and pressed against her chest.

Rinnnnnng

Octavia quickly stood from her seat and moved toward the door, losing her body in the sea of students. 

“Octavia!”

She could hear him yell from behind her, but blocked it out and made her way to her locker. But that too was occupied by that damn puppy eyed werewolf. She just wanted to eat dammit!

“Not now Scott, I’m cranky and hungry.”

She quickly opened her locker and snatched her green apple before slamming it and walking away, all without allowing Scott to say a word. She made her way down the school corridor dodging friends and other hurried students who were trying to make it to class before the final bell rang. 

She made it to the entrance of the cafeteria, only quickly rethinking of entering the double doors and instead headed to a door that lead outside, choosing instead to eat outside. She hated that she was doing this, hiding like some child, but she was tired of dodging all of Stiles advances of an apology. Octavia just wanted some quiet. Stuffing her apple into her mouth, she pulled out a sketchbook that had seen better days before flipping to an empty page and just let her mind go and let her hand do the work. While her hand worked against the paper, her mind wondered, specifically to a certain raven haired man with hypnotising eyes. Damn, she thought. Sure, Beacon Hills had an abundance of fine male specimen, but this man, oh she had definitely never seen someone like him before. She also had never seen someone with such emotion in their eyes. His held a sort of pain only one could know and fully comprehend if they too, had felt such anguish. And maybe that’s why she kept thinking of him. I mean really, it’s been days since that night and it was nothing special. And it really hadn’t been. If anything, it was creepy. Like, what up with the weird eye thing, or how he just commanded her to do what he wanted. She wasn’t a Goddamn dog. Who did he think he was?

Taking another bite of her apple, she contemplated why he even tried to pull such a trick. Oh! And let’s not forget the accelerated healing. Not that she was surprised. This place was a literal beacon for the supernatural. But you see, the question isn’t if he is, but what he is. And that, she isn’t quite clear on. She could always ask Deaton. The thought had crossed her mind multiple times over the past few days, but Octavia quickly realized that Deaton would then tell the pack and all this attention would be drawn to this man, and she didn’t want that. She could tell he was dangerous. Something in her, instinct or a gut feeling, whatever you wanna call it, warned her that this was a man that wasn't’ to be fucked with. She could respect that. She wasn’t exactly someone to be fucked with either. Sure she was human, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hold her own. Quite the opposite actually. Yeah, she didn’t have the super strength that Scott or Derek had, she didn’t have heightened senses or fast healing, but she really knew how to wield a knife and throw a punch, and so far that’s kept her alive and that’s all she needs. 

Munching on the last bit of her apple, she let her eyes take in what she had created, and not to her surprise, the man with the woeful eyes stared back. Rolling her eyes, she stood and made her way back into school, tossing the apple into a trash can as she went, and contemplated new avoidance strategies.


	5. Her Pain and Her Strength

Marco Capello is a very important man. A man with old values and a chauvinistic attitude when irritated. He is a man that wanted a son, but instead was given a daughter.

Octavia was the daughter of said man. You could definitely say that the two clashed. He saw things one way and she saw it another. To put things in perspective, you could ask them both about the weather. Let’s say that it’s pouring rain outside, there are puddles of mud everywhere and worms are making their way to the surface. From the very moment the words left your mouth, their expressions will tell you everything you need to know. The far too serious man, with the far too serious life will frown at the window glittered in drops of rain and say that ‘going out in that kind of weather is just asking to get yourself sick.’ But when you look at the girl with the stars in her eyes, you’ll see that she’s already run out the door and is jumping in all the puddles and mud that she can sink her toes into, she has her arms spread wide and her head will be tipped back as the raindrops cling to her lashes, ‘screw getting sick, this is worth it.’ 

But one thing that they could both agree on; they both hated family dinners. Neither could cook, but with being an important man came with advantages, one of which was being able to hire someone to cook dinner for you. That’s how it had been for the last three years. He was never home often and he had been told one can’t just leave a girl unattended for weeks on end. One would be very prone to promiscuity, especailly a teenage girl, he was sure. Octavia could beg to differ, but hey food right? And the ‘nanny’ wasn’t that bad. The woman had some kind of gift for giving advice. She was by no means a mother figure, but that didn’t mean she was unwanted, quite the contrary actually. Octavia never minded being alone, but for nights on end, it was like the house came alive. The walls spoke and the floors creeked. And in those moments, she was thankful when she heard Lisa arrive in the morning. 

So as Octavia looked across the table that seemed to be miles long, her stomach churned as she took in the hard face of the man at the head of the table. His dark eyes that held a small amount of disdain, stared back at her. Maybe if I had a dick between my legs he wouldn’t hate me so much. She scoffed quietly, She doubted he would like her even then, maybe tolerate her slightly more. She didn’t know why she cared. So what if he didn’t like her, she didn’t like him either. You could even say that she had daddy issues. Maybe.

She continued to push around the green looking food that looked suspiciously like vegetables on her plate as she remembered back to when dinners in her home were never quite so formal. Sure they were never exactly warm and full of love when her dad was home, but when it was just her and her mom there was no sitting 6 feet apart separated by a dark cherry wood. They sat side by side and talked more than they ate. Dinners with her mother were always the best. They were her favorite memories. Sometimes, if the weather allowed it, they would eat outside on the porch amongst the flowers and bugs. Those were her favorite. She missed her mother. Most days were easy, she made it along just fine, but other days, days where she was forced to sit at this dreaded table across this dreaded man who dismissed her as only a burden, her heart would ache in her chest. 

“Quit playing with your food Octavia,” her father scolded.

“Yes father,” you could see the sarcasm in the air as she spoke. 

And apparently so could her father. He clenched his fists as he glared at her from across the table. 

“Attitude young lady,” he demanded. 

Right about now you could probably say that Octavia had had enough. She looked back at her father with a look so cold it rivaled his own and threw her hands flat onto the table and opened her mouth to speak. Oh yes, she was about yell at him, throw all his cruel words and superior comments back at him. She opened her mouth to yell, and... nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say; she had no prepared speech, sure she thought about the day where she finally got to let loose all she thought about her father, but none of those words were coming to mind, she couldn't remember. Well fuck! She thought. So she closed her mouth and stood up straighter. Her fists clenched at her sides as she quickly left the room, not looking back once, not even when her father had started to shout that she better get back there immediately. But Octavia didn’t pay him any mind and continued to march off into the unknown darkness.

As she walked, she let her mind drift back to the scene she caused at dinner. She really wished she said something to him, anything! Like how much of a chauvinistic asshole he was or how much she despised him. But Octavia knew, that no matter if she had all the right words or all her father's attention, she wouldn’t be able to do it. Deep down she lacked the courage to stand up to her father and she hated that about herself. I can face demonic wolves and psycho hunters, but not my own not-so-supernatural father. Pathetic, she thought. And again, for the second time that night, she longed for her mother's presence. A shoulder to cry on. Her shoulders sagged with a fatigue that couldn’t be fixed with a nights rest and all she wanted was for somewhere to go. Stiles’ was out of the question for obvious reasons, Allison was dead and Lydia and her weren’t close. Believe it or not, but she didn’t have many friends. Call her paranoid, but she just didn’t want to get tricked by some supernatural creature. Or be responsible for an innocent's death. It’s sad to say, but this life she lives has a lot of death. And maybe a bit of despair. 

She walked in the yellow glow of the street lights, letting her mind wander, never noticing the predator lurking in the darkness. 

But that soon changed as she saw a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye. All too soon her back was pressed against the rough surface of a brick building. Air escaped her lungs as her attacker pressed his hand firmly to her throat, not enough to suffocate her, but she was struggling to breathe. Octavia looked up only to find the crystal blues she saw days ago. The man from the grill. Dammit, she could never catch a break, just once can’t the hot guy not be homicidal. She held his gaze and her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to burst. She didn’t fight or struggle, but remained still, letting her captur think he had the upper hand.   
“Look who we have here. You know, it’s dangerous to be out all alone this time of night,” a smirk played on his lips as he spoke, but it’s soon dropped as he saw the lack of fear in her eyes.

“You.”

“Me,” Damon mocked with a raised eyebrow. Well that’s curious, he thought, she recognizes him. Apparently his little bout of compulsion didn’t stick, well at least she’ll make a good midnight snack. 

Cerulean eyes stared back at him, lacking the fear he thought he ached for. Unconsciously, his fingers just barely loosened their grip, but enough to allow her to breathe more comfortably. Damon was more than a little irritated as to why this slip of a girl wasn’t paralyzed in fear, but rather looking back at him, almost like she was taunting him. The edges of his lips quirked up at the thought. She held his eyes in hers, and for a moment, it was like she had caught him, ensnaring him with only a look. 

“So we meet again,” she finally speaks.

“Maybe it’s fate,” he grins wolfishly at her. 

“Destiny,” she says softly back to him. Damon tilts his head to the side, liking her response. Suddenly it feels like his hand is on fire, but not the kind Judgy liked to play with, but the good kind, the kind that made you feel warm. He looked down to see that sim, tan fingers enclosed around his own pale ones. The contrast was beautiful. Her hand was warm and soft. He liked that.

“You mind removing your hand,” She spoke lightly. 

“Now why would I wanna do that?” He asked 

“Because I asked nicely?”

He narrowed his eyes at her almost playfully, and smirked. Now if anyone ever asked him why, Damon would probably reply with some joking remark about pity or what have you, but if he was being honest, he really didn’t know why he let his hand drop. Why he had let go of his perfectly good meal. He couldn’t explain it, and wouldn’t if you asked him to. She too seemed surprised that he had actually listened. She kept her gaze focused on him, refusing to look away, he doing the same. Her stare never wavered from his and he had to give her brownie points for that. Confidence or courage, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it wasn’t something so simple and easily faked like bravado. 

Even though Damon had released her from his deadly grip, he kept the close proximity. She could feel the air that left his lungs, brushing her face softly. 

“Now aren’t you the little lurker,” She said playfully, but there was an edge to her words, an unspoken question was being asked. She wanted to know what he was doing, why he had been lurking in the shadows. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer, wasn’t sure what he would say. It’s not like he could compel her, that obviously hadn’t worked the first time. Maybe she had been exposed to vervain, maybe she had some on her. But that honestly wasn’t what had him curious, it was that she wasn’t surprised to find that he was some kind of creature of the night. When he had her pinned to the wall, her heart beat fast, but he couldn’t sense any fear. All of this pointed to her knowing of the supernatural, but Damon wasn’t convinced she was anything but human.

“Who said I was lurking, I could have been taking a walk for all you know,” Damon leered back at her.

“Likely story.”

He stared down at her and she looked back up at him, neither speaking anymore, just watching the other, waiting to see their next move. It wasn’t long before Octavia got sick of the silence and lifted her hands and laid them against the supernatural creature’s chest, who raised a brow at her her advances, but did nothing. She smirked up at the raven haired man before shoving him hard, knocking him back a few steps. 

Liking that she was able to catch him off guard, she looked up at him through thick lashes and smirked before speaking,

“Personnel space, ever heard of it?” She asked rhetorically, but he decided to answer anyway,

“Can’t say I have Kitten.”

She rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the little pet name and instead chose to make her escape, walking backwards as she held eye contact with him, hands shifting to behind her back unnoticably. 

“Now where do you think you’re going?” He questioned, using his heightened speed, making him appear right in front of her, causing a gust of wind to tossel her hair. 

“Anywhere that you’re not,” she snarked. Damon raised a brow at the oddity that was the girl before him. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. Yet. A part of him liked that she wasn’t afraid, it excited him beyond belief. Everyone always feared him, and yeah, it gave him a power trip, but something about having someone look you in the eye and not be frightened was also nice, better than nice actually, it was refreshing. While Damon was lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice that the girl before him removed a knife from god knows where and promptly stabbed him in the chest. Now if he was human he would be down for the count, so he has to give her props for that, but being what he was only caused him pain and a ruined shirt. Octavia quickly spun on her heel, making a break for it. 

Growling, Damon removed the knife from his chest, throwing it to the pavement. He looked to see where she went, but she was already out of sight. On instinct, he focused his hearing, searching for the pitter patter of her human heart. Zoning in on the escalated beat, he sped after her, finding that she made it quite far for someone who lacked any special abilities. Seeing that she hadn’t noticed him yet, Damon moved to the corner where she was going to turn, causing her to run straight into his chest. Damon looked down at the blue eyed beauty with wide icy eyes and smirked at the look of shock on her face. That shock soon turn to anger, but it felt good to finally turn the tables. Reacting fast, the girl threw up her right fist, aiming for his annoyingly attractive face, but Damon caught her fist in his and his smirk stretched into a feral grin, Which soon disappeared when her left fist slammed into his cheek. Growling in frustration, Damon wrapped his hand around her left wrist, holding her roughly, not allowing her to pull anything else. 

“You really thought that was gonna work?” he asked sarcastically. Octavia’s eyes flickered down to Damon’s chest, looking for the wound that already healed, before quickly looking back up to meet his penetrating gaze. 

“Hey, can’t blame a girl for trying,” she smiled up at him, almost looking innocent. He would have believed it too if he hadn’t already known better. Seeing that he wasn’t gonna let her go anytime soon, she decided to change tactics. Rolling her eyes, she glared up at him before sighing, 

“Look, I’ve had a long night so how about we just reschedule or something ‘cause you’re definitely the last thing I need right now.” 

“Well tough luck Kitten, because I think we’re just getting started.”

Octavia opened her mouth to reply with something equally snarky, but was quickly cut off by the raven haired supernatural something. 

“And let’s save the life story while we’re at it.”

“My life is none of your business. Why the hell do you think I’d tell you anything?”

“Woman always do.”

“God! I’ve had enough with chauvinistic men and their bullshit!” She spat at him, trying to rip her arms out of his grasp, but he only tightened his grip, bordering on painful. Damon tilted his head,

“You have to deal with a lot of chauvinistic men?” He asked playfully.

“Only all my life,” was her much softer, less venomous reply. 

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me your life story?” He chuckled and Octavia couldn’t help herself when she laughed too. She looked up at him with soft eyes and an even softer smile that definitely did not make Damon’s stomach do all kinds of flips. 

“Couldn’t help myself.”


	6. Unicorns, the Easter Bunny and a Vampire

She should paint her ceiling. Really Octavia couldn’t believe she hadn’t yet. Like what was even up there? A stain? How the hell does a ceiling end up getting stained? She’s not even sure what color it’s supposed to be. White, yellow, who knew. But what she did know is that she needed to fix it. This was something she could control. She gets to chose the color and the brushes and chose everything that was going to happen because she was in control. Yeah definitely. She was in control, she just had to keep telling herself that. 

Now you may be wondering why the sudden fixation of the off color ceiling and the need for control. Well after last night, after Damon and after trying and failing to sneak back into the house, Octavia had realized that she has lost control of her everything. Maybe it was the hard slap to the face that had her realizing this. Maybe it was the words that were spit at her through lips that were meant to only profess fatherly love. And it’s not like either of those things were firsts for her, but, well maybe it had a little more to do with her encounter with the creature of the night than she thought. Maybe those icy orbs and flirty words affected her more than she cared to admit. Octavia wasn’t sure, she hadn’t a clue, but what she did know was that she needed to fix this poor excuse for a ceiling pronto. 

Throwing her legs off the edge of her bed, she made her way to her bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing in her wake. While she waited for the shower to heat up, she looked at her double in the mirror. Blue eyes stared back. There wasn’t really much to see, nothing she hadn’t seen before. Her cheek was slightly purple and tender to the touch, but again, nothing she hadn’t seen before. Rolling her eyes, she forced herself to look away, never being one to wallow on what she couldn’t change. She opened the glass door and stepped under the scalding water. With her head tilted back, Octavia breathed in. 

~ 

Steam curled out of the shower as the Italian teen stepped out. Hair still dripping wet as she made her way to her dresser. After her skin was dry she pulled on a denim skirt over her panties and a gray tank over her bra. Looking up into her dresser mirror, Octavia reached for her makeup and with a skilled hand hid last night's evidence. 

Sighing, she slipped on her vans and grabbed her book bag and made her way to the door. Just another day in hell. 

~

Stepping off the bus, yeah she rode the bus now, Octavia made her way toward the school building only to take notice of a familiar black camaro rolling up to a stop beside her. 

“Get in.” Oh joy, Derek. Just what she needed right now. Octavia leaned down to look into the window with a teasing grin. 

“No can do D, I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve got school, I can’t just run off and play cops and robbers with you.”

Derek’s eyes may be shielded by dark sunglasses, but she knew he was rolling his eyes. 

“Octavia.” She could practically feel his irritation.

“Derek,” she mimicked. Cue the growling.

“Fine, fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist Der, I’m coming.” 

Pulling open the door she lowered herself in the car and shut the door with barely enough time before the temperamental werewolf took off from the school. 

“Damn Derek. What’s the problem? No wait, lemme guess, another psychotic hunter is in town looking for a new wolf rug.”

And nothing. 

“We’ve got a problem.”

Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. 

~

“Uh this is nice and all Der, but I’m not really sure what I’m looking at,” Octavia commented. It was safe to say that she had no idea what was going on. Here she was standing next to a strip of dead grass that was questionably close to her house. Around her was half of Derek’s pack, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. And they were all staring at her. Weird. 

“Follow me,” Derek grunted, and follow she did. All the way around her house. Okay, so her house was inside the circle of dead grass. Okay fine, that’s not too weird, right? Alright no, it’s a lot weird. Why the hell was her house surrounded by dead grass and how had she not noticed it. 

“Okay so I know what I’m seeing. Dead grass, right? Not totally sure what it means though.”

“We’re not either, but it can’t be a coincidence, nothing in this town ever is.” 

“Oh come Der, don’t over react. This could just be, uh I don’t know, shitty landscaping?” She argued weakly. 

“Yeah right,” Isaac muttered, “We should talk to Deaton right? He might know what would cause this.”  
“Oh come on guys, you can’t be serious. It’s just a bit of dead grass.” Octavia was definitely not in the mood for more of the supernatural. She already had that mysterious blue eyed something clouding her mind.

“This isn’t all. I’ve been noticing some odd… occurrences,” Derek explained. 

“God I’m not sure I wanna ask.”

“Look, hopefully it’s nothing and I’m just over reacting, but I just feel like something is coming, call it instinct, but it’s like the air is changing, I don’t know. But what I do know is that something might be coming and it seems like it has it’s eyes on you.”

“Der, come on-”

“No Octavia,” he growled, “you’re apart of this pack and if something is coming after you, I’m not just gonna ignore it.”

There was a long pause with the two staring at each other, speaking with just their eyes before Octavia suddenly smiled slyly, 

“Aww Der, I didn’t know you cared so much. You’re giving me warm fuzzies all over,” she said, throwing a wink in his direction. 

“Okay, so Deaton then?”

~

The bell on the door entering Deaton’s rang, alerting the man to their presence, but Octavia has a feeling that he already knew they were coming. He was intuitive like that. 

“Derek, I’ve been expecting you,” Deaton said to the alpha once they were in sight. Instead of responding, Derek only stared at the older man. Seeing that Derek wasn’t about to start talking, Octavia decided to take the lead. 

“So it seems we’ve got another supernatural something on our hands and it has the hots for me.” 

“Well put,” Erica cut in and Boyd let a small smirk appear on his thick lips. 

“You’re going to need to be a little more specific Octavia,” Deaton commented with a patient smile. 

“My house is surrounded by a perfect circle of dead grass, Derek here thinks it’s weird. Personally, I don’t understand, like whoop-de-doo, dead grass who cares, not me that’s for su-”

“Octavia,” Derek bit out, having had enough with her rambling, “Isaac, show him the pictures you took.”

So Isaac did as asked like the perfect beta and showed Deaton the brown grass.

“Do you have any idea what this could be and why it is surrounding her house. I mean she’s human. What interest could any supernatural force have with her?”

“Hey!” 

“Well it could be many things. I have seen similar things like this occur in nature because of the supernatural, but this is not enough information to narrow it down to anything specific,” Deaton told Derek the not so helpful news. 

“So you don’t know.”

“Unfortunately, I do not, but please contact me if anything else occurs.” 

Without answering Derek stalked out of the room.

“Damn, he’s more moody that lately. What’d you guys do?” Octavia asked with a smirk. 

Cue the eye rolls. Aww they were learning. After the betas left, Octavia saw the perfect opportunity to speak with Deaton alone. 

“So uh Deaton, I’ve got a hypothetical for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, hypothetically, would you know of any supernatural creatures who are super strong and have healing abilities that aren’t werewolves. Oh and may or may not be able to have mind control. Hypothetically.” She smiled innocently at him. 

“Hypothetically,” Octavia nodded, “I would have to say vampires.”

Oh of course. What else was she expecting, unicorns, maybe the Easter bunny. Vampires of course it was vampires. Why not.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme kno what you think in the comments! :)


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